


words were never enough (and i am tongue tied)

by sinningjul (Julx3tte)



Series: Sylvgrid NSFW Weekend [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ASMR AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Smut, Smut and Fluff, Team Sin, hands tag, please hydrate thouself, sylvgrid NSFW weekend, sylvgrid nsfw weekend 2020 day 2 - games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/sinningjul
Summary: It's normal for Sylvain to fall asleep to his girlfriend's voice - for months before meeting her, he'd done exactly that, accidentally leaving her YouTube videos on in the evenings.It'snotnormal for him to be so aroused at the sight of Ingrid recording videos.This is an alternate universe of https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025962, my ASMR romcom meet cute in which Ingrid is an ASMR Youtuber and Sylvain is one of her fans.uh. there's a reason it's an AU.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Sylvgrid NSFW Weekend [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847143
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23
Collections: Sylvgrid NSFW weekend 2020





	words were never enough (and i am tongue tied)

**Author's Note:**

> i have no notes. please have some water on hand. please don't die of thirst.
> 
> if you haven't read _read my lips_ , you might want to for context! Please read that first so this AU does not ruin your imagination of that fic............

Sylvain had a problem.

He was supposed to be helping Ingrid with her latest video, but at some point he’d fallen asleep on the couch. That wasn’t the problem - she was used to him dozing off at the sound of her voice by now, and by the time he woke up again, she’d put her equipment away and was scrolling through her phone deciding what to order for dinner.

No, the issue was that he couldn’t get Ingrid’s lips out of his mind. He loved her voice, and he’d trained himself to be… less susceptible to the drowsy, languid effect it had on him.

But her lips were a totally different story. He could picture them now, just inches from her microphone. Smiling when she whispered words like  _ hello, _ or  _ please _ , or  _ Ingrid _ . Flicking her tongue over her top lip in between takes. Even the way they scrunched whenever she bit the inside of her cheek while thinking.

Sylvain couldn’t help himself. His imagination was running wild thinking about how warm her breath was, whenever she kissed him. How sometimes, she’d kiss him after taking a sip of iced coffee and she’d taste like mocha and sugar and-- 

This was a significant problem. Ingrid was mumbling to herself, too, and it sounded dangerously close to the more sensual sounds found in her ASMR voice overs. Sylvain shut his eyes again and didn’t dare to open them. 

He’d be fine. Just think about pleasant things. Like food - it would be nice to order some pizza, or maybe some Thai food and eat together like civilized, responsible people.

Then Sylvain realized that he’d have to spend the next hour watching her eat and having to suppress the terribly horny thoughts he was having while they did normal, human things.  _ Oh god.  _ Sylvain shuddered at the thought.

By now, Sylvain noticed the growing hardness in his pants. He was wearing some rather tight sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, and it would be impossible to hide that from Ingrid.

Not to worry. He was used to this - Sylvain squeezed his legs to try to rid the swell of blood flowing into his loins and masked it with a subtle shimmy of his shoulders, as if he were just trying to get comfortable. 

Sylvain hoped that Ingrid wouldn’t notice. For all she knew, he was asleep, and as long as his breathing was stable, and he didn’t move too unnaturally, it would be fine.

But Ingrid started humming, and Sylvain lost his mind as his ears registered her airy alto tones. He could imagine the very air passing between them, the way she shaped her lips to help the sound, and at some point realized that he was holding his breath.

Sylvain exhaled, taking care to keep his body as limp as possible, hoping that the sound wouldn’t be too much of a tell.

Unfortunately for him, Ingrid knew his breathing sounds well. He’d fallen asleep near her so often that she knew his deep, slow exhale meant he was awake.

Sylvain felt her put her phone down and crawl a little closer to where he was on the couch.

It would be fine. Just keep pretending to sleep, wait for the food, and don’t let Ingrid realize you’ve been fantasizing about her mouth. Sylvian had a simple plan and all he had to do was stick to it, and as long as nothing happened, it would be fine.

Unfortunately, Ingrid had other plans.

Ingrid’s hand crawled slowly towards him. He could feel the pressure change on the cushion underneath him. She was still an arm’s length away, but her arm had found its way to his thigh and her thumb was drawing small circles just below his hip.

Sylvain tried hard to stay relaxed, not to let his muscles twitch, but when she moved a half inch towards the inside of his leg, his butt flexed automatically and Ingrid took it as a sign to continue.

She started to hum a particularly slow song and let her hand trail closer to where his hip met his leg, and the gentle pressure was excruciating.

There was no hiding his erection now. 

It was excruciating to have her hand so close yet have to sit still. It was a dumb game to pretend to sleep, but the risk of being found out and forced to confess the reason he was so turned on was worse. So Sylvain waited.

Ingrid drew closer and plopped her head right on his shoulder, leaning against him. He could feel her breasts resting against his arm, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to reach over and touch them, or worse, flex his arm so she knew to touch him.

She was close enough that he could tell she’d closed her eyes, and from her even breath, was pretending to nap too.  _ This is a dangerous game, _ Sylvain wanted to warn. Instead, he slowed his breath, too, enjoying her presence. 

Ingrid’s hand, however, didn’t stop. Instead, it grew bolder, pressing a finger against the base of his length, feeling him jerk as she made contact through his pants. 

His sweatpants were soft but not thick, and through the brushy cotton, Ingrid’s touch almost tickled. 

He held back the overwhelming urge to position his crotch just under her hand, but couldn’t help his body’s response.

His dick twitched, causing Ingrid’s finger to pull back. 

She twisted her face so that her lips were just above his collar bones, pressing against the skin, and her hot breath was enough to overcome his efforts to stave off his arousal by squeezing his legs.

Instead, he relaxed them, feeling him sink deeper into the couch, and Ingrid took it as a sign to continue. 

Ingrid began to run the pads of her fingers up the side of his length, trailing with her fingernails down to his base, and Sylvain’s breath hitched.

He leaned his head towards hers, and stole a glimpse.

Ingrid had an eye open already.

“So you were awake,” she said mischievously.

Sylvain immediately closed his eyes, but Ingrid took the opportunity to snake her hand down his pants and hold him directly.

Sylvain’s shoulders opened at the touch, leaning back against the couch, and he opened his eyes again as he groaned.

“What’s got you so hard?” she asked. “Noticed it before I came over.”

Sylvian’s cheeks blushed.

They’d been dating for months and it was an incredible relationship. He’d never met anyone that he could spend so much time with without getting bored of doing nothing. She met him par for par during sex, and knew half of his friends even before they’d met. He really was his dream girl, and this was before the fact that he’d fallen in love with her voice on YouTube months before ever meeting.

How could he tell her that he had a thing for her lips without feeling like a pervert? 

“Sleepiness,” he said, deciding to play ignorant. “Happens sometimes.”

“Oh?” Ingrid said, moving her hand against him a slow, torturous inch. It  _ was  _ torture, only he loved every second of it. Then, just as he’d begun to lean against her touch, she stopped abruptly. “That so?”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Ingrid began to kiss the side of his neck, making sure that her lips puckered just so that he could feel them pressed against his skin, wet and warm and- 

His cock twitched again.

“Mmmmmm,” Ingrid said, smiling against his skin. “Someone has a fetish.”

“No!” It was hard to speak, but Sylvain forced the words past his groans. “Do not.” 

Ingrid brushed her lips up against his jaw, and his core began to shake. “You sure?”

“Yes,” he said stoutly, as Ingrid moved and nibbled his earlobe. When did it get so warm? Sylvain could feel himself sweating under his shirt, suddenly aware of how restrictive his clothes were. Even though the air conditioning was on, all he wanted was for Ingrid to share her body heat and touch him more. 

Ingrid chose the moment to whisper in his ear. “You don’t have a thing for my  _ mouth _ ?” she asked, in her best ASMR voice. The one that sent Sylvain to the border of wanting to sleep and wanting to ravage her until she made gorgeous sounds at his touch.

“Uhhhhh,” he said, twisting to look her in the eyes, mouth agape. Ingrid looked smug, and he wanted to wipe the expression off her face, so Sylvain kissed her, capturing her lips between his.

They were soft and tepid, and all Sylvain could think about was how they would feel wrapped around his cock. When Ingrid’s tongue slid a line on his bottom lip, Sylvain shivered.

_ God did he have a problem. _

Ingrid’s hand moved against him, stroking him underneath his pants as she kissed him back, teasing his lips between hers. His hips started to move on their own, begging her for more delicious friction. “Mmmmm.” was all he could manage.

She got the hint. Ingrid used her other hand to pull his pants and underwear down so that he was free, and he could feel the cold air against his cock, now held at attention by the base of Ingrid’s hand.

How he wished she would warm him up. He was burning, eyes squeezed shut, and lips captured. Sylvain didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he shoved them against the couch mattress, pushing against it to keep himself still.

Ingrid’s hand slid up and down his length, fingertips teasing at the top before wrapping all the way around him at the base, and Sylvain thought he was ready to die. His hips began to move to her rhythm, dreadfully slow, and eventually his head rolled back against the couch, unable to focus on kissing her.

Ingrid took the lead. She shifted her legs to straddle him, one arm above his shoulder to lean against the back of the mattress, and one hand between his legs, torturing him. He stole a glance at the big smile on her face before she leaned over to kiss under his jaw.

“God Ing,” he said, unable to contain all of the things he wanted to whisper to her. For an excruciating minute, she carried on, running her bottom lip against the top of his neck, hand wrapped around him, gliding inch by painful inch.

Then, she stopped.

Sylvain’s face was as flushed as his hair, and there was a pink tint on Ingrid’s cheeks. He was on the verge of sweating when she pulled back to look at him in the eye.

“Something I can do for you?” she asked, voice honeyed, licking her lips. 

_ Yes. God yes. Please go down on me, please touch me with your mouth, please, God please.  _ Sylvain, breath heavy and cock straining to be touched, bit his lip to think. What could he confess to her? At this point, he was willing to say anything for it to continue. 

“Please Ing,” he said. “I swear to God I respect women but please put your mouth on my dick.”

Ingrid burst into laughter. He could feel her core contracting as she closed her eyes and threw her head back. For a moment, he was worried that he’d killed the mood, but Ingrid hadn't let go of him. Quite the opposite - her hand slid all the way up and down, as if to tell him that his request had been heard and considered. 

“Asking me to go down on you doesn’t mean I think you’re a misogynist,” she replied. “I just think that regardless.”

“Ouch,” he said.

“Just kidding Sylvain.”

She winked and slid off of his lap, down to the floor, and Sylvain swore he was about to faint. He’d never seen anything so sexy in his life. His YouTube famous girlfriend, whose hands on the camera were subject to at least one or two lewd comments per video, had one hand wrapped around his cock and the other against his thigh, holding him down and keeping him against the couch.

She slid his pants down the rest of the way, until he could kick out of them and she could rest in between his knees, head hovering at the top of his thighs.

This was a sight he wasn’t willing to share with anyone. Her eyes were open wide and hungry, and Sylvain could have lost his vision at this moment and regret nothing. 

Ingid kissed him on the hip and he bucked forward, biting his hand to keep himself from groaning too loudly. Ingrid used a hand to push down against his hip bone to keep him steady.

“Don’t do that while it's in my mouth,” she warned.

He nodded furiously, taking a deep breath as Ingrid began.

Ingrid, lips puckered, exhaled slowly, and her hot breath against his cock sent a wave of frisson down his spine. He couldn’t help but shake. He was sweating into his shirt now, but didn’t dare move, frozen in place by the sight of Ingrid bringing her mouth closer.

Then, she kissed him experimentally, testing to see how he’d react. Every muscle in his body strained, begging for more, but he fought to keep his body tight and still, biting into his hand. 

Ingrid’s smile was of the devil. She looked at him square in the eyes, grinned, licked her lips, and wrapped her mouth around him.

In the very instant Ingrid’s lips made contact, Sylvain realized two things. 

The first was that he was  _ not _ going to last very long. Not with his girlfriend draped on his lap, doing the very things he’d once fantasized about doing with her the second time they’d had sex together. He was terrified to ask for it then and still in disbelief it was happening now, and the amount of self control he was wielding would have put Dimitri’s chaste, pure soul to shame.

The second was that all of Ingrid’s practice using her voice professionally: intoning with her lips and tongue and controlling her breath, translated to murder. This experience was designed to kill him, Sylvain reasoned, shaking as Ingrid’s tongue glided along his length. 

At first, Ingrid was testing the waters, bobbing her head over the top of him and watching Sylvain’s reaction. Her hand stayed wrapped around his base, pushing his hips down into the couch. Sylvain, paralyzed from the pleasure, wrapped a hand around his shirt and tugged it tight onto his stomach, trying to maintain control.

It was maddening. Every touch sent electricity through his body, forcing him to clench muscles on different parts of his body, making him sweat more. He could barely keep his eyes on Ingrid and still maintain control - even with just the barest touch, he was getting close, feeling the pressure at his core rising. 

Ingrid was determined to kill him. She brushed her lips against the side of his length, using her hand to hold him just under the head. Sylvain’s cock twitched at the touch. It felt like fire was consuming his body and he couldn’t help his hips shuddering against her.

Those alone would have been enough to send him over the edge, but then Ingrid backed up, brushed her hair behind her neck, and stuck her tongue out at him.

It was Ingrid’s determined face, and it made Sylvain stop breathing altogether. 

Gods she was out to end him. Sylvain watched, breath held, as Ingrid took him into her mouth again and, instead of bobbing back up, sliding him deeper into her mouth. He could feel her tongue running along the bottom of him, and she took him as deep as she could.

Sylvain found a fistful of hair, and pulled, earning him a soft sigh from Ingrid as he struggled not to push her down or pull too hard. He would let Ingrid control the pace, no matter what his body was screaming for. 

His voice was ragged, and messy when he finally found the words to speak. “Ing, god, fuck,” he groaned, using all of his energy to keep perfectly still for her.

Ingrid’s eyes were closed as she focused, but as she settled into a comfortable rhythm, slowly opened them and looked right at him.

_ That _ was enough to put him right at the edge of disaster. 

“I’m close,” he said in warning, tightening his grip on her hair. His other hand, Sylvain’s only way of controlling his body, clawed into his forearm, digging his nails against his skin until it hurt. It felt like his whole body was in tension: his shoulders and stomach strained backwards, forcing his back against the couch as he struggled to breathe without moaning. 

Ingrid took him out of her mouth, kissing the side of him as she used her hand. “Good,” she said, smiling again and licking her lips before sliding his cock back between her lips, keeping him shallow and against her tongue. 

Sylvain’s entire being was on fire, building and building until the raw pleasure sent an inferno through his stomach, through his limbs, making him seize and shake. 

His voice was a throaty, rough sob as he came, every measure of self control gone, eyes fixed completely on the sight of Ingrid, lips parted for him, wearing half a smile. 

He tapered from the high slowly, tapping Ingrid gently on the head to ask her to slow down.

Sylvain’s chest felt hollow and his abs weak from holding his breath, and he began the slow process of breathing again.

Ingrid smiled and stood, watching him, sweaty, red, and splayed on the couch, still shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

“I’ve never done that before,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’m going to brush my teeth. Meet me in the bedroom when you can?”

Sylvain nodded, then shut his eyes, still seeing stars. 

Ingrid deserved everything in the world and he would make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> My wife wanted a shoutout for beta-ing, so thank you Thrush for valuable market research.
> 
> Shoutout Sylvgrid discord! Join us for bullying, incoherent screaming, and ordering hits on each other via fics: https://discord.gg/PzD94p6


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